


Not a child

by LaundryBasket (LaundryBasket____LuLuGal)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Caring Sam Winchester, Cursed Dean Winchester, De-Aged Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Hates Witches, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, John Winchester Angst, Protective Sam Winchester, Sick Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaundryBasket____LuLuGal/pseuds/LaundryBasket
Summary: Dean’s never allowed himself to be a child, from constantly needing to be there for his little brother to knowing what’s really out in the dark, he never really had the chance. Suddenly things change and his chance comes, not in the way either would ever expect.
Comments: 34
Kudos: 222





	1. Chapter 1

It all started where it usually starts; an angry ghost. 

The ghosts husband had killed their two children by suffocating them in the middle of the night. After a fire to the house, set by the devastated mother, the father lost his life while the wife barely made it out of the house, dying not long after on the front lawn. The family itself became just a story left behind with the ashes of the home. The wife’s body was buried and years later the city has since cleared the area and built a new house in its place, welcoming a new family to call it home, most likely stirring up the spirits themselves. 

That’s where the lucky first man was killed. The third death in the area was what drew Sam and Deans attention, each victim being welcomed by death in forms of suffocation. It took a little while to dig into old archives and very few people who were around at that time had much to say other than the husband was an abusive SOB and his wife and children deserved so much more. The reports of shouting coming from the home the night of the fire only supported the abusive accusations, which led to Sam and Deans theory’s on who was causing the deaths. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam eases himself into the cool leather seat of the Impala and sighs out the tension from his shoulders. Even though the case was simple and ended up being just a salt and burn there were a few moments where it was touch and go. 

The ghost had appeared as they were salting her bones and made things a little more difficult. The hours of research, investigating and posing as FBI agents were starting to catch up with Sam, not to mention the effort it takes to not get choked out by a enraged dead mother. 

Dean slides comfortably behind the wheel and starts the car up as Sam eyes his brother none too slyly.

“You sure you’re alright? Not gonna cough up another lung?” Sam says, real concern in his voice but also freely poking fun at his brother. He gets a death glare in return. 

“I’m fine, Sam. My throat was just dry that’s all.”

”Yeah, from you inhaling burning corpse smoke. Not saying you are an abusive A-hole, but I think she was targeting you.” The night was going well planned even with the ghost appearing. They got thrown around a bit but that was normal. Dean wasn’t even directly over the coffin as he burned the bones but somehow it’s as if the dark element of smoke made it’s way straight into Deans lungs, leading to Dean coughing for about 7 minutes straight, gasping for air. 

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean says quickly, shutting the conversation down. He clicks the stereo on, playing the tape inside and suddenly Metallica starts playing. Sam can’t tell if its because his brother is embarrassed for some dumb reason or if he’s just exhausted but he can tell Dean isn’t looking forward to the next 2 hours on the road. 

Some time later Sam doesn’t even realize he’s fallen asleep till he wakes and notices it’s freaking cold and the music has stopped. He opens his eyes, immediately getting a blast of AC into his tired sockets. He looks over at his brother whose whole figure has changed in merely over an hour. Deans grip on the steering wheel is tight and almost white knuckled and his whole body is in movement with attempt to get deep breaths in. The breathing concerns Sam the most, not to mention the beads of sweat trickling down his brothers temple. 

"Hey, you ok?" Sam immediately but hesitantly asks. Dean looks over wide eyed as if snapping out of a daze. 

"What? Of course I am." He says defensively.

"You've turned the car into an ice box." Sam says eyeing his brother up and down looking for any injuries Dean may have failed to tell him about. 

"Well it's like a thousand degrees in here." He says turning up the already high ac so it's now extremely uncomfortable. 

"Dean it's like 40 degrees out right now and you've got the air blasting." Sam says, pulling his jacket closer to his chest. Dean scratches at his own chest and takes a deep breath. Sam can still hear his brothers echoing coughs and worry overrides everything. 

"You think maybe you’ve still got smoke in your lungs?"  
Dean looks over, confusion written in his eyes. Sam takes the opportunity of the momentarily confusion to place the back of his hand on Deans forehead. He not surprisingly gets his hand smacked away but not before he can feel the radiating heat. 

"Woah what the hell Samantha." Sam looks at Dean in disbelief. "Back off or I'm cutting your hair in your sleep." He returns his eyes to the dark road. 

"Dean you're warm. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick?" 

"I've been fine! It's just it's....it's really hot in here." Dean scratches at his chest again then looks at Sam frantically. "Is this normal?"

"No Dean, cooking in your own skin is not normal. Come on, pull over so I can drive." 

"Sam it's like....I can't..." Dean's breathing picks up quickly and his eyes widen. "I can't breathe." He grips tight at his shirt and blinks hard at the road. 

"Dean?" Sam’s full attention is on his brother and he sees more clearly his flushed face. 

Dean suddenly pulls the car to the side of the road, wheels screeching off the cement onto rocks and dirt which tells Sam immediately that something is really really wrong. Without putting the car in park Dean throws his door open and falls out onto the road promptly throwing up the contents of his stomach.

Sam quickly jerks over into the drivers seat, his long legs awkwardly hitting the gear and sets it into park to stop the car from rolling away. He just narrowly misses the vomit on the ground as he hops out. Dean is slumped over now leaning against the stopped car, breaths coming out in puffs. 

“Dang it Dean. You’re really sick.” Dean looks blearily up and it shocks Sam to his core. The mask that is always placed instead of any emotions is no where to be seen. His brother looks lost and scared. 

“Sam...” His name is whispered out and Sam grips his brothers shoulder tight, placing the other hand on his searing cheek. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” The most concerning part is how quickly this all came on. Dean hardly gets sick in the first place but to have it come out of no where and to have it so severe is what’s scary. 

“You gonna puke again?” Sam says lowly. Dean considers it then leans his head back against the solid car supporting him. 

“No....maybe...don’t know.” Sam sighs, they aren’t too far from the motel right now and it would be best to get Dean off the gravel out of the chilly wind and into bed. He's gotta figure out what is happening. Sam hopes against hope it doesn't have to do with the ghost, but he knows deep down it always has something to do with the supernatural. 

“Okay, I'll help you up and you can lay in the back. I'll drive slow but we have to get back to the motel. You tell me if you get nauseous again.” Deans eyes are still closed and he brings a hand to scratch at his chest again still breathing heavily as if he can't get enough air. Sam itches to pull the older mans shirt up to see if there is telling signs of injury on his chest but thinks about Deans earlier comment and decides he wants to keep his hair for now. He’ll just have to wait till they’re back to the motel. 

“Dean?” His brother opens his eyes and nods slightly.  
Helping Dean into a laying position on the back leather seat is a bit more of an ordeal then he would like. Dealing with a arm full of 6 feet and 3 inches of Dean has never been the easiest thing, especially when said brother doesn’t offer too much help. Sam starts the car and takes off, half watching the road and half watching the review mirror to his view of the backseat. 

Sam shoves away his worry, Dean will be fine. He always is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deans sick....and glowing?

They're a few minutes away from the motel when Deans condition seems to worsen. He’s been silent the whole ride which is not exactly unexpected but worrying to Sam. His breathing suddenly picks up and that scraping at his chest starts up again but with renewed energy. 

"Dean hey! We're almost there. Hang in there." Sam doesn't know what they’re dealing with but he doesn't want to be stuck on the road with Dean like this. 

The seconds are agonizing and Sam pushes his foot on the pedal till it’s touching the bed of the car. Once the dingy old motel is in sight Sam feels the tightness griped around his heart ease up a little.

The process of transitioning his ox of a brother to the motel isn’t exactly easy, especially when said ox doesn’t try to help much. He’s sweating bad, shaking like a leaf and not 100% responsive. Sam controls his own breathing. 

Once inside Sam gets ready to dump Dean on the closest bed but his brothers head shoots up, almost coming in contact with Sams chin. 

“Gon’ puke Sm’” Those three words are all that need to be said and the two of them are stumbling to the bathroom, seconds before Dean’s gracefully collapsed over the motel porcelain, emptying the contents of his stomach again. 

Sam places an awkward and seemingly out of place hand on his brothers back for comfort, literally feeling the heat radiate up through the layer of clothes. 

“Dean this is bad, maybe...we do need to take you to the hospital, or call Bobby.” 

“No hospital.” Dean takes a second, leaning his head on the side of the not so clean or polished toilet, pulling out a grimace from Sam. The older brother slowly sits up, composing himself. 

“This could be from a hex bag or maybe that ghost is still alive....dead....still a ghost...?” Sam fumbles. 

“Jus’ a dumb bug. I’m fine.” Ah those famous Dean Winchester words. “I’m fine.” 

Sam rolls his eyes and resigns to fetching his brother some water, giving himself a moment to think. This is not normal in any way, Dean doesn’t just get “a bug” he never has. 

Dean gratefully accepts the cool glass, takes a small sip and spits out the left over puke residue in his mouth back into the bowl.

Sam sighs. “Dean...you’re really sick and-“

“Get out.” Dean hands back the glass to Sam cutting him off. 

“What? You can’t just avoid this by kicking me out of the room, Dean.” Sam feels a flare of annoyance kick in.

“Gotta take a piss.” Dean’s eyes are a little glassy as he gives Sam a look. He’s still shaking as if having just taken a dip in a river but not as badly as before. Sam opens his mouth but Dean beats him to it. “I don’t need help you perv. Wanna hang on to whatever dignity I can Sammy.” Dean does seem to be a bit more with it after his puking episode surprisingly enough.

“Fine, I’m getting you medicine and then you’re going to bed ok? Ill research what this could be...” Dean grunts in response. 

Sam eyes his brother then shutting the door behind him heads to the car to get out their bags including their meds. Sam rubs the tiredness out of his eyes and his fingers twitch to just call an ambulance. As he opens up the trunk it's the voice his ears are trained to hear that makes his blood run cold. 

“Sam!”

Dropping everything and bolting immediately he finds not only the bathroom door locked but his panic rising, swearing that he can hear his own heart beating in his ears. 

“Dean! Dean open up!” Inside the small room comes only silence outside of the sound of his brothers body falling to the ground. Sam gets to work picking the lock. D*** it Dean, what possessed him to lock the frickin door? The lock finally clicks after what seems like hours and his heart soars, jerking the door open only to be met face to face with a blinding light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all! Thank you for reading my fic! More coming soon!! Let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Sam finds on the other side of that door is a little alarming. Cue Bobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are liking this! Let me know what you think and thank you so much for your comments already!! Have a wonderful happy week!

"Sam, you alright?" The gruff familiar voice brings a breath of relief but then immediately gets snuffed out by the concern and adrenaline racing through Sams veins. 

"It's uh...it’s Dean." Seems that the only reason they call Bobby anymore is when something's supernaturally wrong with one of them, like a curse or in the case of having sold a soul. The usual. 

He hears a sigh come through the receiver.

"What's wrong with him this time boy?"

"Well he's a...well...he's kinda a..." how the heck is he supposed to explain something like this? Sam still can’t wrap his mind around it, or bring his eyes to look at the bed next to him.

"Well spit it out Sam, I ain’t got all night." Bobbys thinning patience is tangible through the receiver. 

"He's...turned into a little kid, Bobby." Sam says lowly, shaking his own head at how crazy it sounds. 

"You wanna repeat that Sam?” Sam drags his eyes to look at his brother. The small figure is laid out on the bed that’s now five times his size. 

After getting that dang door to the bathroom open Sam came to find his brother glowing. Literally glowing. After the blinding light died out and Sam could see again, he came face to face with a toddler, laying on the floor being enveloped by what used to be the hunters snug clothing. 

“He’s a kid.”

The older mans voice brings Sams attention back to the phone. “I swear you and yer brother get into more trouble than any other hunter I know, and that's including Garth. Is Dean okay?" 

"I-I don’t know Bobby! He's just asleep or for all I know he could be unconscious or in a coma or-" 

"Well don't yell at me boy! Listen, did anything strange happen during the case? Were ya working with witches maybe?" Sam can hear the rustle of a few papers. 

"Uh no, no, not really. Just a vengeful ghost. Dean had a couching fit from smoke inhalation but other than that the job was stupidly simple." Sam winces at the echos of Deans cough in his ear. 

"Nothing in the life of a hunter is ever simple. Was he still coughing? After you ganked the dang thing?"

“On the way back here he got sick. He was having trouble breathing and kept scratching at his chest. He got sick really fast Bobby.” Panic rises up to his throat and he worries a hand over his face. 

Sam can imagine Bobby rubbing a hand down his own face with the sigh he releases. "Sounds like witches to me. Check the car and all yer stuff for hex bags, witches can be sneaky bastards. Whe’re ya?" Sam kicks himself for not thinking that. 

"Um we're..." Sam grabs a pamphlet for the motel they're in, "Klose inn motel, Oregon." 

"Okay in the meantime just look after him okay? Oregon’s over 20 hours away from me. Send everything about this case you were working, and I’ll see what I find. If anything changes you call me, Sam. For all we know this could just be a 24 hour thing, no need to get worked up before we even know anything. I’ll head your way first thing in the morning alright?" There’s rustling in the background as Bobby noisily makes his way out the room and up the stairs. 

"Okay. Okay Bobby. Let us know the second you find anything." 

"Yeah yeah. Just don't do anything stupid till I get there ya igit." Bobby hangs up leaving Sam in silence. 

Almost dropping the phone Sam falls onto the empty bed, watching the still form of what once was his big brother. He looks so fragile and tiny. His little freckled face is still and his mouth is a little open with puffs of breath. He actually looks peaceful. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean sleeps through the night and most of the next day. It’s more than concerning and Sam finds himself pacing the small motel room. 

He searched the car, their bags and the motel room from top to bottom the night before to find nothing. No hex bag, no mysterious bones or herbs, nothing. 

He called Bobby around 9 am only to be told he was an idiot again and to wait it out. Sitting down to do research has gone out the window after hour 5 and eating isn’t exactly the first thing on his mind. Sam runs another hand through his hair and winces at how greasy it is. He’s too afraid to shower or even sleep in case Dean wakes up. He caught himself sleeping here and there but had shaken out of it each time. 

It’s finally the quiet high pitched voice that immediately melts Sams fears and calms his heart. 

"S'm?" The bright apple green eyes flutter open and Sam’s there in an instant, sitting in the chair placed by his brothers side, feeling all kinds of relief at once.

"Dean hey, how are you feeling?" Sam scoots forward to the edge of his seat.  
Dean squints then pulls his hands up to his eyes to rub and all Sam can think is please let Dean still be Dean. 

"Wha happ'nd?" His voice is rough but so pure and adorable. Deans eyes then shoot open and all grogginess that was there just moments before seemingly vanishes. Deans hand goes to his throat and his eyes widen. 

"Hey, hey it’s ok. You’re going to be ok, we’re figuring it out." He offers weakly. Dean jerks up shoving the blankets off revealing his small body engulfed in his Black Sabbath t shirt. 

"Son of a b****!" The words screamed from a child sound so unbelievably wrong. 

"Hey I know this looks bad but Bobby's on his way, and for all we know this might wear off by tomorrow...." Sam tries to soothe. Dean’s busy looking at his hands and the small toes poking out from the hem of his shirt. 

"I'm a child. Sam...." Dean says surprisingly calm. 

"Dean..." The freak out is coming, Sam just knows it. 

Deans eyes jump to Sam, looking him over as if to assess for damages.  
“I’m ok.” Sam offers. 

Dean nods then returns his attention to his own small form. “I’m...I’m..” Dean then jumps from the bed and almost face plants into the motel floor if it weren’t for his bigger brother. 

“Dean-“

"I'm a kid! What in the hell Sam!" Ah there it is Sam kneels down to be level to Deans new height, or at least almost there. Even kneeling down hunched over Deans small frame is much shorter. Was he really this tiny the first time around?

"I don't know, but don't worry we're gonna figure this out and get you back to normal as soon as possible." 

"Yeah? How? With magic fairy dust? What? A chick flick moment gonna fix all this Sam? I'm two feet tall and we have no idea why or how and..." Deans chest rises and falls faster and faster and he clutches at the baggy shirt thats slipping over his shoulders. 

"Woah Dean, hey Dean." Sams hand engulfs Deans shoulder but the stability is there. It grounds Dean to his place in the here and now. "Hey, it’s gonna be ok, we’ll get through this." The green eyes so filled with life hold Sam in his place. Dean nods. 

"I'm fine. Just I...I need a beer." The words sound absolutely wrong and foreign coming out of a child's mouth. 

"Yeah that’s not going to happen. you’re what? Five years old? Four? Like you said you're tiny Dean there’s no way I'm letting you anywhere near a beer let alone even think about having one." Deans mouth opens up but before he can even start to protest Sam stands up. "Man you’re filthy, you need to wash up. You smell like garbage." Dean scowls. 

"Well you don't smell too fresh n fruity yourself princess." Dean folds his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys survive the day.

Sam rubs his eyes when another dead end hits.

He stretches in his chair and feels a crick in his neck that will definitely be sore tomorrow. The clock says 12:45 and the TV has been on with some old western show for a few hours now, glaring on the rest of the dim room and his brother. Said brother who has been propped up against the headboard with the TV remote slack in his hand just as long as the show’s been on. 

Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair. 

The scars from his brothers previous beaten body are now all gone and left without a trace. All but the newest edition on his chest they found when Dean took a shower; some weird red marking that has come with non stop complaining that it “itches worse than that frickin ghost scratch.” 

Sam has searched up the marking hoping to bring up maybe a spell that it’s connected to but all he’s hit are hours of sore backs and weird teen satanic wizard club web pages. Even Bobby hasn’t found anything. 

Their previous case in every way, shape and form looks closed and Sams mind is boggled, unable to accept that his brother may now be stuck as the mini version of himself forever.

Sam closes his laptop and looks across the room. 

Deans head is drooping and his eyes are struggling to stay open. Every few seconds his head snaps back up in an attempt to fight against the battle of sleep that he's rapidly losing. 

The curse itself seems to have taken a lot out of his brother and the poor kid hasn’t been up to more than watching John Wayne reruns and eating small amounts of take out. 

Sam mentally kicks himself for getting so absorbed in his research.  
Even though Dean is still Dean, his body is and has been telling him it’s clearly way too late. 

With a groan Sam stands up and stretches his arms above his head before moving to the occupied bed. 

"Hey man, it’s super late and I'm exhausted. Let's wash up and go to bed." Sam try's his best to sound the same as if he were talking to grown up Dean and man is it hard.

Dean blinks up at him and nods slightly, rubs at his eye slowly with one hand then slides onto his stomach to get off the bed, his moves slow and sluggish. 

Sitting on the toilet lid Dean doesn’t exactly do a thorough job of brushing his teeth but after a tired glare from his brother, Sam lets him do it on his own. 

Once finished, Dean does something Sam never in a million years would envision his brother doing. 

Small arms reach up in Sam's direction in the universal sign of 'pick me up'. It’s shocking and Sam can’t help but think it’s some sort of test. 

Afraid that he’s making a big mistake he gingerly places his hands around the small torso lifting him up into his arms. 

Dean immediately cuddles up into Sam's collarbone and lets out a deep sigh as if it’s the most comfortable thing in the world. Severely weirded out, Sam holds the small figure tighter, a surge of protectiveness flooding through him. 

He moves back to the bed, taking comfort in the moment of closeness to his brother and tucks the small bundle in underneath the covers. He shakes his head in fondness but also heavy confusion. 

"Night Dean." He says softly and doesn't expect a response so when the little "Night Sammy" hits his ear his heart immediately swells. 

Sam looks at his little brother already fast asleep. The golden locks, the freckles and the small hands limp with sleep are almost too much. And the voice, man, it’s insane to believe this little adorable kid turns out to be his tough and gruff force to be reckoned with brother. 

Sam aches to find a cure but in this moment, he finds himself ok with it all. Being able to take care of Dean for once. Sam’s not sure why but it’s nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your amazing support and kind comments! It means the world to me! Please continue to let me know what you think! 
> 
> Another chapter will be coming really soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerves and tempers are high, and apparently the fires in the kitchen are too.

The adorable little brother who was just here last night is now nowhere in sight. Dean’s grumpy, in pain and though he would never admit it, whining. Bobby's still a couple of hours or so out and they are no closer to a cure now than they were last night. 

"Sam I need out of here. I will go crazy if I have to spend another second in this stuffy, burnt room." Dean groans loudly from the floor where he's been laying face down for quite some time now. 

Some of his words are effected sounding more like w's, like pwease and cwazy, and Sam has to turn away from his brother to hide his smile. Even though Dean has been nothing short of annoying, the kid is pretty cute.

Breakfast is almost done and Sam’s just grateful they went on a food run earlier this week. Even if the milk smells like it’s on it’s way to being funky. 

"Dean, I told you, there's no way you're going out in public without clothes and I'm not leaving you here alone. We just have to wait for Bobby.” 

Sam makes a mental note to ask Bobby to stop on his way to grab Dean at least a shirt, underwear and pants. They can go real shopping later seeing as the curse is already lasting longer than the hopeful 24 hours.

“Come on Sam, I’m not gonna suddenly combust the moment I’m left alone.” Dean shoots a glare towards the kitchen. 

More like set the room on fire is what Sam’s afraid of. 

“I’m not budging on this.” Sam says putting some eggs on plates for the two of them. Dean groans again hiding his face in the carpet, practically swimming in his own Black Sabbath T-shirt. 

“This freaken sucks!” The yell is muffled into the old dingy carpet. 

Sam is more than grateful his brother is at least feeling better and no longer down to the bone exhausted. But the better his brother feels the more complaining he hears. 

Sam looks up asking for strength and his eyes catch on the charred black edges to the cupboards which goes back to Deans comment about the room being burnt. He shakes his head thinking about how he woke up to the motel room almost catching fire. 

Dean was up before him and decided to bring it upon himself to try and make coffee or food or whatever it was and somehow got the stove fire blazing high in the kitchen. 

After frantic attempts to calm the flames while still half asleep, Sam checked over the kid. Dean was fine, just a little shocked. His hair was in crazy knots and frizzy from sleep and the oversized shirt was slipped off one of his shoulders. 

His whole look screamed innocent especially with those wide apple green eyes, but the second he started talking all innocence was instantly snuffed out. 

"Son of a b****! That thing just tried to kill me!" The frantic look in Deans eyes instantly made Sam want to gank the stove for bringing on this kind of distress. 

Then seeing the smoke reach to the ceiling, Sam ran to open windows before it set an alarm off. Lucky for them the motel’s old enough that the smoke alarms are pretty much defective. 

Sam got after Dean for the incident but it was almost impossible to make him understand the situation and telling Dean that he should be no where near the stove, motioning to his small form, was ultimately a wrong move and brought out an angry Dean. It all evoked a fight ending with his currently little brother on the floor face down ignoring Sam for a solid half hour. 

“Stop sulking and come get some breakfast.” 

Dean more or less drags himself to the table, the grumbling in his stomach too much to ignore. “I can’t do anything with these stubby pixie hands Sam.” He says lowly.

Dean crawls up onto his chair and sits down heavily, clearly pouting. He then moves a hand to his chest to itch at it again. 

“Hey! Stop it. No more itching that Dean.” That results in a thrown back head releasing another groan. “We’ll see if Bobby can get some anti itch cream for that.” Add that to the list of things they’re asking Bobby to do for them. 

“Great, now I sound like an old lady. Fan-freaking-tastic.” Dean fumbles with his fork and pokes around at the steaming food.

“You want some milk?” 

“No I want some beer.” Dean doesn’t make eye contact. Sam sighs and sits down in the chair next to his brother. 

“You know what Dean? I’m trying here. We’re in an impossible situation and I get that it sucks to be a kid but you are! We’re working on it and we just got to suck it up right now.” 

“We? Last I checked your junk isn’t the size of my pinkie!” Sam makes a face at his brother bringing said finger up. 

“Dude.” 

“No really Sam! You don’t understand what it’s like! I’m literally my adult brain shoved into this tiny useless body! I look and sound like a freaking extra from Barney!” 

“Barney?” 

“You have no idea how badly I wanna burn that purple dinosaur.” Deans fork fumbles out of his small hands and he releases a growl in frustration. 

Sam sighs feeling that familiar weight rest on his chest that he let his brother get cursed again. He picks up his own fork and moves his breakfast around on his plate. 

“Look, I’m sorry. We’re both a little stir crazy but I know this is upsetting and harder for you...”

“Sam.” Dean says interrupting. 

“No Dean really I-“ 

“Can you shut up a minute?” Sam looks up and notices Deans eyes are wide and his hand is gripping at the milk carton. His eyes dart to the carton and he controls a breath. 

“I can’t read.” The panic in Deans voice is tangible and Sam can’t find words himself. “I can’t read!” The green irises dart back and forth almost frantically. “Please tell me this is literal chicken scratch.” Dean looks at Sam again with a glimmer of something in his eyes. He’s scared. “Sam!”

Dean’s never been the one to look at Sam like that, like he holds all the answers. Like he’s the older brother. Fighting his own small sense of panic of being that brother now, Sam digs into his calm and collected voice. 

“It’s fine Dean, just part of the curse. You’re gonna be fine.” Sam chooses his words carefully. “And when was the last time you willingly read huh?” Trying his best not to take the whole situation too seriously. 

Dean drags his eyes back to the carton slowly and nods slightly. “Right. Reading’s for geeks like you.” He says, but with no teasing behind it. Dean lets out a shaky breath and his lip wavers. Those green eyes seem to become more vibrant within seconds and water starts to pool at the edge. 

Sam is speechless to say the least as a single tear falls down his brothers face. 

It looks like the tear surprises Dean as much as Sam and he viciously wipes it away, taking a dive off his chair and making a beeline for the bathroom. 

The door slams shut and Sam can make out the sound of the lock clicking putting up once again; walls between him and his brother. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The knock on the door is a chime from heaven and Sam all but races to answer it, ignoring his dads training to be cautious of opening the door for just anyone. The weight of the day lifts as Bobby is revealed standing right in front of him. 

“Hey Sam.” 

He grips the older man in a tight hug and brings himself down to fit into Bobbys arms. Not only is seeing the old man a relief after months of only having contact over the phone but the feeling of not being alone in itself brings a wave of relief. 

They pull away from each other. “Good to see you boy. I swear ye get taller each time I see ya. Now where’s the kid of the hour?” 

Sam humorlessly chuckles. “He’s locked himself in the bathroom for,” he looks down at his watch. “45 minutes now.” Sam doesn’t move too quickly to clear the confusion from Bobbys face but rather rubs his own with a tired hand. 

Bobby looks to the closed door across the room. “How’s he holding up?” He sets his bag down on the closet bed. 

“Not great Bobby. He’s not taking it that well and seems his temper is worse than usual. Not to mention the zero patience he has.”

“And how about you?” 

“I’m fine.” He says without a beat. 

”Cut the crap Sam, I basically raised you boys the first time around and I know what kind of hell raisers the both of ya were.”

Sam laughs for real this time. “Lets just say I’m happy you’re here.”

Bobby looks one more time at the closed door. “Well, lets get to summoning a dead ghost then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love your kind comments! Thank you all for the amazing support! You’re beautiful people!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys find leads and some dinner. Bobby lessens the tension thank goodness but Dean’s somehow glowing again.

It’s another 20 minutes before Dean comes out of the bathroom. His little steps are so quiet Sam doesn’t even notice him. It’s the small voice that jerks both men’s heads up from their research. 

“Bobby?” The smile that comes to the old mans face is one Sam hasn’t seen in quite some time. 

“Hey, Deano.” Bobby pulls himself out of his chair and kneels to Deans' hight. His arms are wide and welcoming. Dean doesn’t make eye contact with Sam but takes the few reluctant steps to his uncle figure. 

Bobby easily envelops Dean and his brother embraces the man back, leaning into the affection even though he sighs out in embarrassment. He doesn’t seem to want to let go but Bobby holds him out at arm's length, eyes roaming over the small form. 

“Balls, you look younger than when yer daddy even taught you what a saw off was,” Bobby mumbles almost to himself. His eyes suddenly take a sullen glaze and he smiles softly at the little boy. “I hear someone’s been having a rough past few days.” 

Dean scoffs. “Tell me about it, and princess Samantha has been babying me all day.” Dean finally looks over to his brother, a small smile on his face that seems to say “I’m sorry” 

Sam feels the familiar pull to banter and argue back with his brother. He will take the sass and side comments over the tears and pain any day. He resorts to a simple eye roll and says, “Well your voice is about as high as one.” 

Bobby chuckles. “Glad to see you still got yer fighting spirit.” He stands up turning back to the table littered with papers. “You feel like helping us figure out how to change ya back?” 

Sam told Bobby about the reading incident earlier so he sits back to see how the older man will handle this. 

“We’ve got some ideas but we’re one hunter and an extra pair of eyes short.” Bobby sits back down in his chair, kicking out his leg to push the empty seat next to him out from the table. 

“Have you found any leads?” Dean clambers onto his seat and settles in, kneeling on the chair and resting his folded arms on the table itself to clear more than just his head above the table. 

Sam clears his throat. “We think. We found that in the weeks after the initial fire and death of our ghost the police interviewed close friends of hers. Kinda like a cult.” Sam slides across an old photograph to Dean pointing at the necklace on one of the women. “Or a coven.” Dean takes the old photo in hand furrowing his brow in concentration. Suddenly his expression falls. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. A coven? She's a witch?” He looks up at Sam. “She’s a freaking witch! How did we not see this before?” 

“Well, Bobby found the photo in some old article that was never printed or released to the press only kept in some old library records.” Dean hands the photo back. 

“So that explains it. She obviously pulled some mumbo jumbo crap on me! We hunt her back down, force her to change me back, and then kill her again.” 

“That’s where the problem is Dean, we already burned her dead.” 

“So?” 

“So we either find a way to bring a ghost back from already being killed dead twice or find a cure ourselves.” Bobby chimes in. 

A grumble suddenly comes from under the table and Dean's cheeks flare bright red as a hand flies to his stomach. 

With a raised eyebrow and relaxed chuckle, Bobby gets out of his seat again. “Well I don’t know about you boys but I could go for some food. And I almost forgot...” He stands up and reaches for his duffel bag. “Ought to be better than that oversized shirt you’ve got on.” 

Bobby pulls out some articles of clothing and tosses them to Dean. “Didn’t realize you’d be this small. Let’s hope they fit ya well enough.” 

Dean pulls the fabric up against himself and wrinkles his nose at the Star Wars print on the front of the T-shirt. “Skywalker Bobby? Really?” 

“When yer shoppin for yourself, feel free to chose what you like." Bobby sets the rest of what he bought on the closest bed. 

Dean sighs and mumbles a small thanks. He thankfully reaches for the underwear first and slides them on underneath the dress of a shirt he has on. When he takes said shirt off, Bobby’s breath hitches and he stares at the mess on Deans chest. 

“Dean...” 

Noticing all the attention is on him and more specifically the red markings laid out on his front Dean just shrugs. ”It’s no big deal, only itches.” Bobby grunts. He silently hands over some itching cream from the bed he got as well. 

“We should keep an eye on that, we can’t forget that Dean here is our biggest clue.” Bobby says, sounding too familiar to a time not too long ago. 

Sam thinks about it, remembering when his brother was cursed with yellow fever. He’s not gonna let his brother be overcome by a curse like that again. 

“Now why don’t we keep talking about this over an early dinner.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean doesn’t take too lightly to the waitress calling him “cutie pie” or “sugar” especially when she then turns and gives Sam the works in a well-practiced wink. 

“This is ridiculous. If I were myself she’d be all over me, wouldn’t even bat an eye at Sam.” Dean picks up his kid's meal burger fisting it in his hands. That burger in itself was a pain to order. 

Sam chuckles over his salad. “Just let us know if you want her to come back with those coloring pages again.” 

Dean's cheeks redden making his freckles stand out, something Sam notices is happening more often. “Shut up.” 

Bobby grins at the two brothers then clears his throat. “Alright, I was looking at an old myth linked to covens and witches and found something pretty interesting.” He pushes his steak aside to place some papers in its place. “If you get enough members of the coven together, their powers could possibly summon one of the members who ain’t there.”

“What are you saying? They get together, sing Kumbaya and suddenly we’ve got our witch?” Dean says almost inaudible with his mouth filled with burger meat. 

“Well it’s a bit trickier since they’re all dead but it should work the same either way.” 

“And if it doesn’t work?” 

“Then we’ll be waking the ghosts of witches for nothing.” Bobby takes a bite of steak. 

“Awesome.” Dean sets his half-eaten burger down, wrinkling his nose at his messy hands. Sam wordlessly hands his brother a napkin, smirking at the other half of the burger that seems to be on his brother's face. Dean seems to notice too and scrubs in annoyance muttering something about pixie hands again. 

“Alright, so...where do we begin?” Sam turns to the older man. 

“Well, it sounds simpler than it probably will be, but we’ve gotta collect all the bones from each witch, bring em all back to the grave sight of the one you already killed and finish a spell. Will probably be a pain diggin’ all those graves but when it comes to you boys when has it ever been easy.” Bobby sounds only slightly worried but the looks he keeps sending Dean show he’s more concerned about the Winchester than he’s letting on. 

Deans breath suddenly catches and a hand grips at his chest. Sam is up in a beat and at his brothers’ side. 

“Dean! What’s wrong?”The kids ‘breathing picks up and a small whimper escapes his lips. 

“Hurts Sammy.” He whispers suddenly, sounding as small as his physical age. His eyes are squeezed shut and he scratches at his chest with both hands now. 

Sam grips at the small wrists, pulling them back from his brothers chest and lifts the Star Wars shirt to reveal the scar glowing faintly below. Sam’s blood runs cold. 

“Balls.” Bobby is right next to him. 

“Is he alright?” The sweet voice of the waitress comes up from behind them. Sam doesn’t bother looking, he simply grabs his brother and holds him close, getting up to get out of there as fast as possible. He leaves Bobby behind, saying something about ‘the kids asthma actin’ up’ and to pay the bill. 

The only thing on Sam’s mind is that Dean is in pain that he’s four years old and in pain. Once outside he heads straight to the car and sets his brother gently in the back seat. He holds his brother close still but takes a look at him again. The glowing on Deans chest has stopped and if he didn’t see it initially in the diner he would have never believe it actually happened. 

“Dean, hey Dean look at me. I need you to let me know if you’re ok. Does it still hurt?” Sam cups his brothers face and wills the kid to look up at him. His eyes are teary and slightly glazed over. 

“Don’t feel good.” Sam freezes again at his brother not only once, but twice admitting that he’s hurt or anything but fine. Something is not only definitely wrong, but clearly getting worse. 

Deans eyes roll back into his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s been ages since the last update! But I’ve got the next few chapters almost all written already so they will be coming a lot faster now! Thank you for your patience and let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait everyone! We’ve got a little more cranky Dean before the action comes. Thank you for joining in on the ride and more chapters are coming! 
> 
> This chapter is basically heated emotions wrapped up in a little taste of sadness.....basically everyone has had enough.

The rumble of the car has stopped and the lack of it’s soothing rhythm pulls Dean out from sleep. Looking around he ignores the stutter to his heart from seeing the car completely empty. His head whips side to side to land on the familiar beaten vest of Bobby’s outside. 

The older man is filling the car with gas and with a quick look to the left Dean sees Sams tall form in the gas station through the windows. Man, his brother is looking more and more like Bigfoot each day. 

Dean sighs and leans back into the stupid car seat hating that they’re defacing baby but Sam and his desire to not get pulled over overruled Deans complaints. 

He thinks back to the diner and tries to shove down the immediate embarrassment. After his literal breakdown and passing out he woke up an hour or so later feeling absolutely fine. Sure, he felt dead tired but the hot poker feeling on his chest was gone so he saw that as a win in his book. 

They got to the first grave site not too long after that and the whole situation in itself started up another argument between the two brothers. Dean again trying to drill into his brothers head that he can help and that he’s fine even though what happened at the diner did make him nervous and of course Sam excelled at being an overbearing parent and it ended with the two of them yelling at each other and Bobby stepping in to stop them. 

In the end they succeeded in getting the bones of the first witch and hopefully took one step closer to getting Dean back to being himself and not three feet tall anymore. It feels like the emotion of his usual six foot body has been crammed down into this small form making everything harder for the trio. 

Dean cringes at his temper making him act even more the part of the kid he appears to be and kicks himself for once again letting his emotions get the best of him. 

In those moments it’s as if he’s hit hard with tunnel vision, losing it completely and somehow exhausting himself into sleep. And that’s another thing! He hates his stupid little body for getting tired so quickly. 

Dean shifts uncomfortably, feeling how full his bladder has gotten and with another look to the left he sees a bathroom sign directing around the corner. 

Bobby’s busy trying to figure out an ATM and Sam’s currently in line with most likely rabbit food in his arms. Dean makes a face at the thought and fumbles with the stupid car seat. He hates the thing but will never admit that it’s actually pretty comfortable even though It will never replace the feeling of being behind baby’s wheel. 

Getting out is a process but then Dean slides over to the far door opening it gently enough Bobby doesn’t seem to notice. Dean shuts it and makes his way towards the bathrooms across the parking lot. 

Once his business is done and his hands are somewhat clean in the grimy sink he makes his way bock out, wiping excess water on his pants. 

A sugary voice comes from around the corner startling the boy. “Are you lost sweetie?” The sound makes Dean cringe. A lady maybe in her 50’s bends down with her hands on her knees and gives him the most condescending smile, at least it looks condescending. Everything looks that way from down here. 

“Back the hell off lady, I’m fine.” Her shocked face should make him feel bad for being so short but he’s done with the day already, he doesn’t need some stranger annoying him too. 

Deans giant moose of a brother comes bounding around the corner almost running straight into the woman. A wave of relief washes over his face and he moves around to get to the kid. 

“Dean! There you are!” His eyes seem to roam over Deans form assessing for damage. 

“Glad to know he has family around. He does have quite a mouth on him though.” The woman stands directing herself to Sam. 

Sam does his classic please stay out of our business smile. “Yeah we’ve been with my uncle a lot and his vocab is about as clean as a sailors. Dean here picks up everything he hears.” He bends down to ruffle Deans head non too lightly which once again results in a dark glare sent up his way. 

The woman gives a disapproving look to Sam then smiles sweetly again at Dean as if to cover it up. 

“No worries, I was just worried the poor thing was lost. He’s quite a looker too, gonna break a lot of hearts with those eyes of his.” She says, acting as if she doesn’t register that Dean can hear every word she says. 

Sam does his uncomfortable scoff laugh. “Yeah...Well thank you ma’am. Have a nice day.” Sam says, clearly dismissing the woman. 

“Have a nice day, Dean.” She nods her head at him leaving Dean feeling all kinds of weird. 

Once she’s gone, and no longer sending glances their way, Sam makes sure they’re out of earshot from anyone else in the area. 

“Dude, what were you thinking?” Sam says lowly, clearly pissed at Dean. 

“I was thinking I needed to use the bathroom. That against the rules now for a man to empty his bladder?” Dean says, just as upset. 

“Dean, you stay in the car or have one of us go with you to the bathroom. You can not be alone ok? It’s not safe.” Sam drills into the small boy, sick of the attitude he’s been getting the past few days. 

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like I’m crossing the state! The bathroom is right there! You wanna hold my hand while I piss too?” 

Bobby is suddenly there, shoving Sam back and giving Dean a look. “Knock it off! Both of ya!” He takes his worn cap off to rub a hand over the thinning hair. “We’ve got 2 hours left on the road just to get to the next grave and I’ve had enough of this!“ 

“Yeah that makes two of us.” Dean folds his arms and practically growls up at his brother. 

Sam scoffs. “Dean, you aren’t being reasonable. What would you do if I were the one who suddenly turned into a four year old? You would never leave me out of your sight!” 

“Of course not Sam! But that’s different!” Dean says defensively.

“How is that any different? You just refuse to accept you can’t do everything on your own!” Sams arms go out wide making his form even more intimidating. Dean suddenly feels even smaller than usual, with his brother towering over him but he doesn’t back down, the anger now bubbling inside with no outlet. 

“That’s crap Sam. I had to do everything on my own! I had to watch out for you, take care of you! We all know dad didn’t. I didn’t get the luxury of having someone’s there!” Dean says, practically seething. 

“Dean that’s not-“ 

“No go on Sam, tell me to embrace being a kid again. Tell me to hold your hand and allow you to cut the dang crust off my bread because I’m small and useless and I can’t do anything.” Dean is equally pissed at himself for the tears beginning to blur his vision. “I might be small but I’m not a child. I never was and I never will be.” Dean says lowly. 

The brothers stare at each other eyes boring into the other. The heartbreak is clearly visible in Sams eyes and the tears begin to trickle out of Deans. 

Bobby steps in. “Dean, we care about you son. We know growing up with yer father wasn’t an easy task and you’ve done more than either of us could ever comprehend. But think, what if something were to happen to you today? You’re the best dang hunter I’ve ever seen but things are different right now.” 

“I was fine!” It’s unbelievable how big they’re making a walk to the bathroom be. 

“I wasn’t finished boy.” Bobby says sternly. “This attitude is enough. You do something like this again and we ain’t gonna let it slide. There will be consequences.” 

“What you’re gonna punish me? Put me in time out?” Dean gives a humorless laugh hating himself for the nervousness that comes through it. Bobby would never. 

“If that’s what it takes.” Bobby stands up to his full height. 

“You’re kidding me. That’s...that’s not fair!” Dean doesn’t care how much like a four year old he sounds but the tears are giving him a headache and the the two idiots in front of him are boiling his blood. 

He looks like Sam as if hes going to help his case but his brother isn’t even looking at him.

Dean yells out in frustration and storms off to the car. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean cried for an hour of the drive, refusing to talk and then exhausted himself back into a fitful slumber. 

“He asleep again?” Bobby asks. Sam turns around to see Dean clutching one of their flannel shirts like a blanket. 

“Yeah, I think his emotions going haywire really takes it out of him.” Sam sighs deeply and rubs a hand over his stinging eyes. “The moment I saw the car empty I swear my heart stopped. He’s just so small Bobby, I can’t....if anything were to happen to him...” sam grips the wheel and takes a breath.

“I know, Sam. I know.” A comforting hand lands on Sams shoulder and he looks in the review mirror again, tilted so he can have a full view of his sleeping brother. 

“That kid sure is giving us a run for our money though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I love your comments and Kudos warm my heart!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Digging up the bones of an old witch has never been more fun.

They reach the grave site just as the sun begins to go down. Taking advantage of the last bit of light Bobby and Sam begin digging. 

“So how many more witches we gotta dig up after old Elizabeth here?” Dean says from his perch on their toolbox.

“Two more,” Bobby lets out a grunt with another dig. “Then we can get the hell out of dodge and get you back to normal.” Dean nods and rolls one of the shotgun bullets between his fingers. Bobby straightens, making a face and rubbing at his lower back. 

“Need a break old man? I can take over.” Dean tries, feeling way too useless doing nothing. 

“I ain’t that old boy, and it’s just a few aching joints.” Bobby shoots the kid a smile. “Besides, yer our eyes and ears.” 

Sam takes the shovel from Bobby and resumes in finishing the hole off. Once the casket is revealed a chill hits the air bringing a slight tickle at the back of Deans neck and can’t help but shiver. Looking over his shoulder makes him feel like the three of them just received a little company. 

“Uh guys, I think old Elizabeth may have just joined the party.” Dean says, right as the two older men open the coffin. A stronger wind rustles through the trees, almost knocking Dean over in the process.

Sams head jerks up as he feels it too, lifting a hand immediately out of the dirt to grab his shotgun. Him and Bobby both hop out of the earth putting up their defenses. 

Suddenly Bobby is thrown flying across the graveyard and out of nowhere Dean is carried up in the air, not from any ghost though. With one arm Sam has Dean picked up and held tightly against his torso while the other is gripped on his gun, finger close to the trigger. 

They move as fast as Sams long legs carry them and even though Sams grip on Deans body is tight the boy still holds on to his brother with all his strength. It takes a few minutes but Baby is finally in sight. Sam unlocks the door and the next thing Dean knows is he’s sitting inside on the familiar leather. Sam kneels to face him. 

“Ok Dean you need to say here.” He says breathless. “You stay, do not open this door for any reason, you understand?” 

“Wait Sam!” Dean pushes against his brothers hands keeping him in place. “I can help!”

“Stay!” Sam practically yells, pushing Dean further into the car and slamming the door. He locks the door with the key (as if that would really keep Dean inside) then grips his gun with both hands making it back to Bobby in a sprint. 

Dean stays put for all of two seconds then immediately moves to the other side of the car to get out through the unlocked door. There is no way, even as a four year old that Dean would leave his brother. He didn’t the first time around and he isn’t about to now. 

He almost thanks the heavens when the trunk is unlocked and has his shotgun laying inside. Loading the gun is difficult and he fumbles almost too much with the bullets to get them in the chamber but after a frustrating minute he succeeds. 

The gun is clearly bigger than him and running with it is awkward and uncomfortable but thoughts of Bobby and Sam make his feet move under him. 

When the gunshots and yelling get louder it clues Dean in that he’s getting closer, it’s a good thing too. Coming up to the grave sight Dean almost drops his weapon in shock. Bobby is laying still on the ground, blood dripping from his head and the ghost is posed over Sam, a hand on his throat and another digging her claws into his chest. 

Words filter through Deans mind and drown everything else out. Sam. Danger. Little brother. Shoot. 

His hands, though a lot smaller than they used to be, move in the well known action of taking the safety off and cocking the gun. It takes literally his whole body to do so but he then poses the gun, closing one eye and resting the gun in front of his shoulder. He should feel nervous but all he cares is that a witch is digging her claws into his brothers skin. 

“Hey!” That grabs her attention, and Sams too. His brothers eyes widen in fear. 

Dean breathes to calm the shaking and pulls the trigger. 

Everything happens at once, the noise, the pain, the shrieks. It’s all too much. 

Dean realizes he’s on the ground, ears ringing and shoulder on fire. His brothers face is above his own and worry is written across his features. 

“I told you! I told you to stay in the car Dean, dang it.” Sam says, but the slight tremor says more. He prods around the pain and Dean winches. 

It dawns on him that he didn’t take into account the freaking recoil of the gun twice his size meaning it jammed straight back into him, explaining the feeling as if his arm is currently not attached to him. He feels a pang of embarrassment but replaces it with focusing on his brother. The shot got the witch out of there, even if it means she’ll be coming back soon, but as long as it saved Sam in that moment it was all worth it. 

“You ok Sammy?” He pushes himself up onto his good arm. 

“I’m fine. We gotta finish this and get you out of here.” Sam gives him one last one over pulling him up to lean against a nearby tree then runs to the grave sparking a flame on his lighter. 

“Bobby!” Sam yells, trying to get the older hunters attention. “Bobby, I need you to take Dean! Get up!” Sam douses the coffin in gasoline. It evokes a groan from the man who starts to get up too. Deans vision wavers a little and he misses his brothers presence, wishing they could just get out of there. 

“Sam!” Bobby yells, alerting both brothers and jerking Dean in his place. The witch is back and looks pissed off, surprisingly not at the man who’s about to light her bones on fire but at the four year old who shot her to the high heavens. 

It dawns on Sam where the deathly glare is being directed and he moves fast, grabbing his gun again. Dean gets up, reaching for his own gun against the protest running through his body. 

“Go Dean! Now!” Sam gets in her way dodging a swing and shoots his shotgun right back at the wispy figure who disappears before it can make contact. 

“No I can’t leave you!” Dean says with just as much urgency. 

“Get out of here!” The ferocity in Sams voice is something that Deans heard directed at John and the monsters they face but never at Dean. (Sounds like something straight out of Johns mouth.) It shocks him to his core. 

The witch comes back again and Sam tries shooting at it again. 

“Dean leave! NOW!” 

He doesn’t know if its the four year old or solider left in him but Deans body wills him to obey. 

He runs. 

And he gets flipping lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone, this chapter for some reason was hard to write and I hated anything that I wrote and basically how it turned out. But I hope you like it anyways and please comment! Love you all and thank you for your incredible support! Thank you!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has never felt more like a lost child before and he gets a little help from a stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What!?! Two chapters in one day? You mean you guys don’t have to wait weeks for an update?!?! Must be Christmas! Or in this case Halloween!!

Dean is not scared. He’s a Winchester, gun powder literally runs through his veins. He’s lost sure, and alone and dare he say worried, but not scared. 

“Sam!” Dean cringes at how much he really sounds like a four year old looking for his dad. He takes a deep breath and tries to think his situation through. 

It’s been what 10, 20 minutes since he lost his brother? He can’t find baby anywhere and he swears he’s been running in circles by this point. Stupid. He never should have left Sam and Bobby to fend for themselves. He should be able to protect them instead he’s the biggest liability. He never should have been cursed in the first place. Dean huffs in frustration at himself. 

The rule when he was a kid (the first time) was to remain where he was unless there were signs of trouble, if not then find his was to the motel or nearest pay phone.

Deans not hurt too bad. There’s only the pulse of pain coming from his shoulder every few minutes but he’s too worried about his brother to think about that. 

Walking to the motel is out of the question, and Dean doesn’t even think he could find a pay phone much less be tall enough to reach one. 

Staying put seems like the way to go, and that’s not just because he’s too frozen in place to move. 

“Sam! Uncle Bobby!” His screams sound more frantic but he doesn’t care. He grips at his shirt, trying to find comfort that it smells like his brother, his brother who of which could be hurt. The thought alone tightens his grip and all he can do is sob at the stream of tears that begin to trickle down his face. 

“Sammy....” Dean sits down heavily and wraps his arms tight around his chest that feels like it’s about to explode, winching at the sudden fire from his shoulder. His heart is pounding too fast. 

Where could Sammy be? Why isn’t he coming? Didn’t he want him anymore? 

Just then the sound of feet crunching on the leaves and twigs on the ground ring out and Dean all but leaps up, scrubbing his wet face trying not to fall over at the sudden light feeling to his head. 

“Sam?” 

A man comes out from the shadows of the forest. Tall and scary looking. Dean prepares himself for the worst. 

“Hey kiddo, what are you doing out here all alone?” The man’s wearing plaid, got a beard like Bobby and even looks the same as many hunter friends they have. His voice is kind enough and it’s more hope of being found than Dean’s seen in a while. 

“I...I lost Sam.” Dean can’t help but rub at the set of new tears that begin. He wants nothing more than to be back safe with Sam. 

“Who’s Sam?” The man cautiously comes closer and kneels down, looking a lot less threatening. Dean chokes out another sob.

“He’s my dad.” He stops at the words the just came out of his own mouth. Did he just....

“Ok, do you know where you saw your dad last? Is he here in these woods?” The mans voice is deep but soothing. 

“Yeah,” Dean hiccups “he was hunting and somethin’ bad happened and he told me to run. I don’t....I don’t know where he is. I couldn’t......” Couldn’t save him. Dean feels a wave of frustration, not only at the tears and loss of words but that he feels himself slipping further into his own mind. 

“I bet that’s been really scary for you. It’ll be ok, I’m gonna help ya find your dad. Could ya tell me your name kiddo?” 

Suddenly there’s a snap of a twig off to the side stealing Deans attention and fluttering his already beating heart. 

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s probably just a deer. You’re ok.” The man says in that calming voice again and Dean tears his eyes away from the source of sound to see the guy with an easy smile. 

“My names Randy, what’s yours?” 

“Dean.” He says softly. 

“Alright Dean, you look like you may be a little hurt there. How about I help you get to some place warm? We can call an ambulance and find a way to contact your dad from there ok? It’s not a good idea to stay out in these woods.” 

Dean feels uneasy, remembering him and Sammy talking about hospitals and ambulances never being a good idea but he can’t remember the reason why. He needs to find Sam and there doesn’t seem to be any other way. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Randy lives very close to where Dean managed to get lost. It’s a nice homey looking cabin with the fireplace already hot with flames which immediately makes Dean realize how tired he is. The warmth and late hour seem to suddenly be hitting hard and he can’t stop his eyes from dropping. Only the thoughts of Sam are keeping him standing. 

He’s so sick of not being able to control his own body. With every breakdown it gets more frustrating and he feels his control weakens more and more. 

Dean cautiously stays standing by the front door still gripping at his shirt. He tries to take his surroundings in. It looks like Randy lives alone and there are some guns on the far wall...maybe he is a hunter after all. 

Dean looks over to see Randy pulling out a well used first aid kit and fumbling with his phone at the same time. 

Dean doesn’t even register Randy is making a call until it gets answered by some high pitched woman. 

“I found a boy here in the west woods wandering all alone. His shoulder looks a little banged up and he’s lost his dad, said something about a hunting accident.” 

She speaks again and he answers with their location. 

Dean shuffles his feet in the dirt they dragged in with their shoes. He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes close for a moment. Sammy would never leave him, neither would Bobby, they’re his family and family always sticks together. He forces himself to open his eyes again and tilts his head to look out one of the dark windows. They’re probably coming for him right now. 

“Alright thank you, appreciate it ma’am.” 

Suddenly Randy is right in front of him which makes Dean jump a little. 

Randy smiles kindly. “That shoulder isn’t looking too good, do you mind If I take a quick look at it?” 

Dean feels himself nod and his eyes close again against his own will. 

Randy gives a understanding look. “Let’s move to the couch, I’m too old to be kneeling down like this too long.” 

Dean looks again to the window but isn’t sure how much longer he can remain standing. He releases his grip on his shirt and reaches for the man tiredly. 

After being deposited on the worn couch Randy pulls back the fabric of Deans jacket and takes a look at the torn shirt beneath. Dean looks too and sees splotches of red. Oh...that explains a few things. 

“That’s a nasty scrape you got there kid. How are you feeling?” 

Dean shrugs with his good shoulder wanting so badly to lean into the fabric of the warm couch and give into sleep but he would rather be awake for when Sammy comes. He fists at his eye with his left hand. 

There’s some prodding at his aching shoulder and he winces when a cold rag dabs at the blood there. “Almost there, you’re doing so good.” Once Randy is satisfied that it’s cleaned up enough for now he places a clean bandage over the small limb. The pain has seemed to of doubled sapping Dean from any energy he had left. 

“You must be exhausted.” Randy says almost under his breath. He reaches over to the back of the couch and drapes a blanket over Dean. 

“Why don’t you lay down, they’ll be here pretty soon.” 

The blanket is soft and the couch is warm. He doesn’t realize he’s laying down until he begins to slip into sleep. 

Sammy will be here soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos and comments! You all are the best!

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two sweet boys. Tell me what you all think and if I should keep going. :) love you all! You’re amazing!


End file.
